


It's a Little Bit Funny

by Filmsterr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Head Injury, Hospitals, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Moving In Together, Relationship Issues, Temporary Amnesia, sex injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 15:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13056870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filmsterr/pseuds/Filmsterr
Summary: When Castiel wakes up at the hospital and demands to know why his mechanic is the only one at his bedside, Dean is rightly concerned. Not because his boyfriend is hurt- well, yes, because his boyfriend is hurt, but more because Castiel is referring to Dean as his mechanic and not as "my loving boyfriend who fucked me so hard I ended up in the hospital".





	It's a Little Bit Funny

**Author's Note:**

> Whaaaat? I've had this sitting around nearly finished on my computer for like a year. Finally got around to posting it, just because! I love a bit of Amnesiac Cas, always one of my favorite tropes. Hope it's nice and fluffy enough for ya!

Okay, _listen_.

When Dean first saw that Cas was hurt, he was concerned. _Of course_ , he was concerned. 

He'd been out of his head for a few seconds, riddled with panic (not to mention, guilt) as his brain rifled through a folder filled with images of the worst possible scenarios. 

But then, when the doctor told him that Castiel was going to be just fine-- in fact, would only have to stay a single day at the hospital for observation-- well, that's when Dean sat back and began to see the situation for what it was. 

And what it was, was funny. 

I mean, who knocks themselves unconscious _during sex_? Dean had always known that Cas could be particularly... enthusiastic, you might say. But to knock your head against the headboard so hard you conked out? That was truly remarkable. 

Dean was seriously looking forward to the particular shade of crimson that Castiel was going to turn when he heard how this injury had come to be. As passionate as he was in the bedroom, he was also fiercely private-- and if he knew that he’d been taken into the ambulance buck naked, and that the good Dr. Robert now had a pretty good idea about his freak-in-the-sheet tendencies, well... Dean rubbed his hands together with somewhat maniacal delight.

Just then, Castiel began to rustle under the thin hospital blanket. His brow furrowed deeply in the middle of his face. He looked kind of like a baby might, Dean thought to himself, when it came out of a nap. 

Dean leaned over quickly and grabbed at Castiel's shoulder-- partly to steady him, and partly because he wanted Cas to know that he was there, that he'd waited. That he'd been the dutiful, concerned boyfriend; even if he did take a little glee at the thought of embarrassing poor Castiel.

" _Mmm_." A moan, eyes still closed, limbs wriggling in between the blankets. 

Blue eyes fluttered open wide and fell onto Dean's face. They were more clouded than normal, Dean noticed. Maybe a side effect of the pain killers. He imagined Cas would have to be doped up something good to be sleeping so peacefully. 

Castiel’s eyes flicked around the room, eyebrows still scrunched in what now appeared to be confusion. He licked absently at his chapped lips. Dean could feel the tension in his hunched shoulders, and gave an extra squeeze to comfort him. 

Then Cas looked to where the hand was resting on his shoulder. His eyes moved from the fingers up the arm, until they finally made their way to meet Dean’s.  In return, Dean cracked his lips into a crooked smile that he hoped would seem like a warm welcome back to the conscious world. 

Castiel dissolved into an extended coughing fit. The most dry, barking sound came from his chest. Dean quickly grabbed the cup of distilled water sitting on a table next to the bed and handed it over. Castiel took it without thought and proceeded to drain it in seconds. 

“Go ahead, drink up.” Dean sat back down in his chair, but kept a hand on Cas’ leg. He didn’t like the idea of being too far away right now. “How you feelin’, bud? You in pain?”

He hadn’t noticed while he was talking the weird way that Castiel was looking over him. It was like he was... suspicious, or something. His eyes kept darting to Dean’s hand on his leg, and it seemed like he refused to let himself relax. 

After a moment, Cas set the cup down on the table beside him and cleared his throat. “I... I’m sorry. I don’t...”

Dean retracted his hand from Cas’ leg and straightened his back against the chair. “Do you remember what happened?”

A despondent look crept over Castiel’s face. He answered with a minute shake of the head. Dean nodded. “I figured as much. You knocked your head pretty good there, fella. Been out since yesterday. I’ll tell you the longer story later-- it’s pretty funny, but I think you should probably focus on resting up so we can get you out of here.”

Castiel continued to scrutinize him, squinting shrewdly from his stationary place in the bed. He cleared his throat again, seeming to gain confidence this time. "Um," he murmured, as if finding his voice by degrees. "Um, it's... Dean, right?"

Now to was Dean’s turn to have the furrowed brows. He whipped his head in Castiel’s direction, narrowing his eyes as he surveyed the man in front of him. “Uh, yes?”

Turning his head away, Castiel’s confusion only seemed to deepen. He took a few seconds before he spoke again. “And... I’m sorry-- I was in the shop when this happened?”

"Shop?" Dean echoed. "What shop?"

The corners of Cas’ mouth twitched in a downward curve. It would have been adorable, if Dean weren’t so confused by the words coming out of it. "Your auto body shop," he said at last, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

Except it wasn’t, because Cas hadn’t been to the garage in almost six months. And, beyond that, he sounded so strange and overly formal and distant, like they barely knew each other. Like they hadn’t been dating for six months. Like they hadn’t been _fucking_ _each other_ like rabid animals when Castiel did the thing that landed him in the hospital. 

Dean got so hung up on analyzing this train of thought that he hadn’t realized he left Cas hanging. The other man adjusted his johnny modestly. “I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t mean to offend, I just... I don’t understand why I’m apparently in a hospital with a head injury, and the only person by my bedside is my mechanic.”

 _Your mechanic?_ Dean was about to scoff out loud, like that title has somehow superseded ‘boyfriend’ on the marquis of his life. At that very moment though, a squeaking sound appears in the doorway to cut him off, and he turned around in his seat to see a six-foot-tall mess of balloons reading “Get Well Soon”. Dean sighed and leaned back in his chair, feeling deflated beyond words. 

“Sam?” Castiel asked, sounding incredulous. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Sam jerked his head in Dean’s direction. “What is he talking about? Is he high?”

Cas looked back and forth between the two other men: Dean to Sam, Sam to Dean. The expression on his face only became more and more lost as he did. 

“Do you two know each other?”

Okay, now Dean was just getting annoyed at all this. “Cas, what in the h-- _oh_.”

He placed a hand over his mouth and stared off into a corner of the room. Sam and Cas both leaned in toward him, waiting for him to clarify whatever had caused him to stop speaking. He didn’t, though. He simply sat there, thinking. 

Finally, after there had been a full sixty seconds of silence amongst them, a sound burst out from Dean’s throat. It was involuntary, though he probably wouldn’t have stopped it if he could have: a single, sharp _ha!_ that broke the tension in the air, and caused both Sam and Cas to look at him as if he’d gone temporarily mad. 

“Oh, man,” he laughed to himself. “Oh, man. This shit just keeps getting funnier.”

“I fail to see what is so humorous to you,” Cas grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Dean looked over at him and laughed again, then turned back to Sam. 

“I think what is happening here, dear Sammy,” he said with a very amused smile, “is that our friend Cas is experiencing a little bit of memory loss.”

Sam’s jaw dropped in front of Dean’s eyes. He couldn’t make himself turn around to see Cas’ face. He was a little afraid to see what he’d look like. 

You see, the doctor, while telling him that there would be no long effects of Cas' self-inflicted sex injury, had warned Dean that something like this might happen. Not amnesia, per se, but more of a super-intense grogginess that might make Cas a little extra forgetful. There was very little likelihood that it should last more than a few hours; a day or two, at the most. 

They both continued to stare at him wide-eyed, so Dean chose to provide an example. “For instance,” he said, gesturing to Sam, who stood frozen, balloon bouquet still firmly in his grip, “I imagine that Cas knows you only as his study group partner.”

Castiel, chewing nervously on his lip, nodded sheepishly. 

“Right,” Dean confirmed. “And you two have been friends outside of that class for months. Which means...”

“Means what?” the poor head-injured patient asked helplessly from the bed. 

Dean took a deep breath, and pushed it out. “Means you probably have no idea that you and I are, in fact... a couple.”

Castiel spluttered. Sam had refilled his water and lucky for all them he wasn’t taking a sip just then, because he surely would have spat it out all over the two of them. 

“We... We are?” he asked. Dean noted it was the first time Cas sounded genuinely nervous since he’d woken up. He answered with a single, slightly proud, nod. 

But Castiel still looked uneasy. “I… this is all very disarming. How could I not remember something like that? How... do I know you’re not lying to me?”

He was staring at Dean skeptically, eyes tight and his shoulders tensed up. Dean hated it. Cas never looked at him like that, and if all was right in the world he never would again. 

But-- because he was already experiencing four more layers of emotion that he didn’t want to be-- Dean pretended not to notice, just rolled his shoulders and sucked on his own lower lip. 

“Well,” he replied coolly, “I could tell you about the birth mark you have on your inner thigh...”

Castiel was already starting to turn into a tomato, but because Dean enjoyed watching his embarrassment, he leaned in closer and whispered: “your _very_ inner thigh.”

“Oh _jesus_ , Dean,” Sam whined from the behind him. “Couldn’t you just show him a picture?”

“Oh, a picture!” As if the concept had only just come to mind. “Sure, I have tons of those.”

Dean pulled out his phone and opened his camera app. In fact, there was almost nothing _but_ pictures of him and Cas together on there. He stood up next to the bed and leaned over to give Cas a good angle as he began to swipe. 

“There’s us last week... There’s us at your birthday dinner... us at a show last month...,” Dean backed away and allowed Castiel to continued flicking his hand across the screen, bringing up image after image of the two of them: smiling, laughing, kissing. 

“I have a whole ‘nother private folder, with some more _sensitive_ photos on there. If you want, I can--”

“No,” Cas cut him off with a hand raised and a weary tone, “That’s.... that’s alright. I believe you... I suppose.”

Dean took his phone back and returned to his uncomfortable chair beside the bed. At the far end of the room, Sam’s balloons squeaked against one another. 

“This feels very strange,” Castiel told them, his mouth dipping into a sad little expression. “That there’s just a chunk.... that I can’t remember.” He paused. “I know who I am... I know my name and that I have two sisters and that my parents are Chuck and Becky--”

“It’ll come back soon,” Dean promised, allowing his hand to hover near where Castiel’s rested on the bed, “Don’t you worry about it.”

With pursed lips, Cas gave a tight nod and looked away. He drew both hands in and rested them on his lap. Seeming to brush the thought away, he attempted something of a friendly expression. “Um, how long have we been dating? I mean, I don’t even now how big this gap is.”

With a somber expression, Dean told him, “Three and a half years.”

But just as Castiel’s eyes got so large it looked like they might pop out of his skull, Sam cut in to admonish Dean. “Aw, come on Dean, stop being a dick. You’re torturing the poor guy.”

Dean had lost himself in a fit of giggles so fierce it was impossible to stop. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Cas. When you feel better, you’re gonna laugh about this with me.”

The way Castiel was staring at him with frustrated bewilderment at him from the bed made him halt the laughter all together. “It’s been about six months,” he confessed. “Well, seven. You’d get mad at me if I rounded down.”

Castiel nodded gravely and withdrew into himself somewhat. 

“You know,” Sam injected in a voice that made him sound much smaller than his frame would indicate, “I’m going to give you guys a bit of alone time. I’m sure you have some stuff to talk about.” 

He left the balloons in the corner and waved goodbye, bidding one last ‘feel better’ to Castiel, who looked genuinely grateful for the sentiment. Cas and Sam always had gotten along well, even before Dean had come into the picture. It was something that made him genuinely happy to think of. 

“This is all giving me a very big headache,” Castiel murmured, pulling Dean out of his inner monologue. “I think I need some time to adjust.”

Taking the hint, Dean stood up from his chair and moved toward the door. “Sure. I’ll head down to the cafeteria and grab a bite. You want anything? Water... root beer?”

Cas turned his head in Dean’s direction and gave a wistful smile. “You know my secret indulgence.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and laughed. “You know, believe it or not, I’m actually a pretty good boyfriend.”

Cas let out a breath of air. “I believe it.”

Something passed between them then, as Dean lingered in the doorway. Something pleasant; new, but familiar. The whole experience was really something strange all over: Dean, looking at his boyfriend, who he loved so very fucking much. And Castiel, looking back at a near-stranger. 

Dean rapped his knuckles on the door frame. “Alright. I’ll be back.” Castiel nodded and turned to face the window.

As he sat down to eat his crappy cafeteria sandwich, Dean took a moment to take stock of his emotions (which was not normally something he cared to to). How did he really feel? He needed to know. It was impossible for him to be there supporting Cas if he a mess himself.

While the whole situation was somewhat amusing, it was also god damn terrifying. Sure, the doctor had said this memory loss would be short lived, but... what if Cas just didn’t remember him? At all? They’d only been together a short time but already Dean was fucking head over heels for the guy. It was no use pretending he wasn't. The thought that all those memories could just be wiped from Cas’ hard drive... it made a bad feeling run down his spine. 

He barely ate half of his sandwich before tossing it into the garbage and just wandering the long corridors of the hospital. A couple of pretty nurses giggled at him when he walked by their station, and he couldn't even bring himself to give them a little hit of the charm. That's when he really knew it was bad. 

He gave Cas an hour to sort his stuff out before he appeared in the doorway once again. His heart was a thick lump in his throat. He hoped with all his fucking might that he would walk into that room and Cas would look over at him and smile and everything would be fixed. He didn't want to see Cas  with that wary, guarded expression. That wasn't his Cas.  

What he found was Castiel looking mostly unchanged, though he glanced up at Dean in the doorway and looked quite serene. 

“Come here,” he waved to Dean, indicating the chair next to the bed. Dean accepted the invitation, though he moved slowly across the room so as not to frighten Cas away. 

“Did they give you more drugs?” he asked cautiously, sinking into the chair. 

A lazy grin coated Castiel’s features. “They gave me a little something.”

He giggled, and so did Dean, and it felt right between them. Dean felt his stomach settle, the bad feeling in his spine rescinding into nothing. He reminded himself of the most important thing of all: even if they weren’t working off the same cache of memories, they were still Dean and Cas. They still worked the same way. He found that endlessly comforting. 

“You know, I always founds you very attractive.”

Dean sat up in his chair, suddenly overcome with affection. He saw Castiel looking over at him with an expression on his face that might be called sheepish. “Babe, are you saying you had a crush on me?”

Cas rolled his eyes, even as his cheeks grew a more intense shade of pink. “It hardly seems an embarrassing secret now that we’ve apparently been dating half a year.”

“Well, still....” Dean teased, “you had the hots for me.” He chanced resting a hand on the bed near Castiel’s, and this time the other man didn’t move his away. 

Castiel settled once into a new position against the pillows. “So, seven months.”

“Seven months,” Dean agreed. 

“Do we live together?”

Dean bit out a dry laugh. “Heh. We’re, uh, we’re talking about it.”

 _Fighting about it_ , is what they were doing; but if Cas didn’t remember that then Dean certainly wasn’t going to remind him. Dean had been pushing for the move, said it felt right, they loved each other, why not now? Cas was hesitant. He didn’t like to rush into anything, said couples that moved into together too quick ended up burning out fast and he didn’t want that with Dean. Which was all well and good, but Dean’s lease was ending next month, and he didn’t want to have to wait a whole year to come back to this conversation. 

Castiel only _hmph_ ed at that and continued to look around the room. “And Sam? How do you know him?”

“He’s my little brother.”

Castiel laughed. “What a small world.”

Dean hummed. It was weird, having this conversation over again. 

“You know... if you’re Sam’s older brother, then I’ve heard some stories about you.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed. “Oh, not this again. You _love_ telling me this story.”

“I’ve done this before?”

“Yeah, the first time I took you home to meet Sammy and you put two and two together. And then again when you met Jo and Benny, you really enjoyed a good laugh with them at my expense.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up into a small, crooked grin. “Hm. I suppose I’m a creature of habit.”

“Yeah. Some creature you are,” Dean murmured, brushing a finger over his lips. That strange feeling passed between them again, but this time it was... altered. Amplified. Charged up, like there was a current in the air and you could see the way it moved. Dean wished he could kiss Cas, but there was something to be said for the build up, too. 

Cas was looking over at him under heavy lids, blinking for long moments between flashing his sparking eyes Dean's way. He was probably sleepy from the medicine, but Dean could swear that was the very face Cas was making at him just before... well right before he hit his head.

Dean bounced up suddenly from his chair, not trusting himself. “I’m gonna go find a doctor so we can talk about getting out of here.”

And he left before he could see the look on Castiel’s face. 

Dr. Robert came into the room, who Castiel did in fact recognize. He assuaged their worst fears-- said it shouldn’t be more than a few days before Cas was good and back to normal-- and told them that once a thorough check-up had been done Castiel would be free to go. 

Dean stood at the bedside dutifully while the doctor went on and on, his hand itching the whole time from wanting to reach out and touch Cas. His hand, his knee, his chest, anything. It felt more paralyzing than he’d imagined: not being able to physically comfort his boyfriend during this difficult time for the both of them. 

When Dr. Robert proceeded to give Castiel a work-up, Dean watched from the corner of the room. He asked if Cas wanted some privacy, but he told him, no, of course it was alright for his boyfriend to be in the room (for someone who couldn’t remember the entirety of their relationship, he wasn’t having a hard time hopping right on board, Dean could give him that).

Just a few hours later and they were given the all-clear to head home-- though strongly recommended that someone be there any time Castiel was sleeping for the next few days.

“And, boys?” The good doctor added in a conspiratorial tone as he packed away his things. “Let’s be a little more careful when we’re, erm, performing the more strenuous activities, hm?” and then he left them with a wink and a tip of the head. 

Castiel’s own head immediately turned and shot an accusatory look in Dean’s direction. “What did he mean by that?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you later,” Dean vowed, though the amusing prospect of Castiel’s reaction had diminished somewhat now. “You put on some clothes, and I’ll go grab Baby.”

“You’ll grab _who_?” the look of shock and horror on Castiel’s pale face made Dean remember all over again who he was talking to. Or rather, who he _wasn’t_ talking to. This whole thing really was a trip. 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. “Sorry. I meant I’ll pull my car around for you. Sound good?”

“Oh,” Castiel sighed, and the relief that flooded onto his face was immense. “Okay, Dean.”

The way that Castiel said his name just then had butterflies fluttering in Dean’s tummy the whole time he was walking to the parking garage. It sounded sweet on his tongue, like he was just a little bit nervous to say it. It reminded Dean of their first date, the hours he’d spent rehearsing in front of the mirror. 

Dean pulled Baby up outside the front entrance of the hospital where Castiel stood waiting. Just as he hopped out of his seat to open the door for Cas, like a gentleman, the injured man leapt back in horror. 

“Oh, no,” he declared in a tone that conveyed the utmost seriousness, “I’m not getting into that.”

Dean scoffed aloud. “Oh, come on. She’s a classic!”

“She looks like a death trap,” complained Castiel. “And I’ve already been in the hospital today.”

It took some coaxing, Dean leading Castiel into the passengers’ seat with a firm hand on his back and even buckling the seatbelt for him, before he saw some tension relax away from Cas’ shoulders. 

For a few minutes they drove along in silence. Dean coasted along the city streets, ever so often peeking over at Cas from the corner of his eyes, watching the way he surveyed his new surroundings.

Cas pet his hands softly over the leather material of the bench seats. “You know, there’s something... familiar about this,” he said, voice just as soft as his hands. 

Dean kept a casual tone and checked his rearview mirrors. “Yeah? That’s good.” Inside it felt like he’d just won a massive battle, but he used all his mental strength to keep his cool. He never thought he'd be so excited over such a small fucking thing. 

“Are you taking my to my place or yours?” Cas asked. He sounded neither nervous or uncomfortable, but Dean couldn't help wondering whether that was mostly a show for his benefit. At least some part of Cas must have been going out of his mind right then. Dean could understand that. 

“I… was headed for yours," he reassured, "I figured you might want a little alone time.”

But to his surprise, Cas looked over at him and shook his head. “Not necessarily,” he replied with an air of ease, “I wouldn’t mind seeing your apartment.”

Dean huffed. Funny, he thought. A second chance to meet Cas again for the first time, and he's the same as he ever was. So open, so trusting. Dean felt a tide of love for Castiel that had at this point stopped to surprise him. “Alright. Mine it is.”

He took the next chance he got to reverse direction, driving now to the opposite side of town where his own significantly less homey apartment waited for them. But he didn't mind. He'd take Cas anywhere he asked to go.

Another handful of moments passed in silence, Cas' fingers now lightly rubbing over the leather beneath him. He seemed to be treating Baby with the necessary amount of deference, which bolstered Dean and made him think that his Cas really was still there, almost ready to come home.

“For what it’s worth...," Castiel spoke up after some time, and Dean turned to look at him as best he could while still driving, "I think we should move in together. I don’t know what my position was about it before but... I think it’s a good idea.”

Dean smiled wide. He didn't have words for whatever feeling Castiel's words provoked in him. _I'll make sure I tell you that you said that_ , he noted with a chuckle, but there was no way to voice that aloud without sounding ridiculous. So he just turned toward Cas and flashed his teeth and even this new amnesiac version of Cas managed to pull his lips into a tiny little smile for that. 

When Dean parked the car just outside his building, neither of them made to move. Dean killed the engine, Cas unbuckled his seatbelt, but the two of them stayed there, just letting silence fill the car. Castiel straightened his back. “You know... Dr. Robert said that if I get back to my normal routine there’s a better chance of my memories returning more quickly.”

His hand reached out across the front seat and found Dean's leg. The second his fingers touched the denim of Dean's pants, electricity sparked throughout the interior of the Impala. Sure, Dean's pants ruffled at the insinuation of what Cas was saying, and the strange thrill of this being bold for Cas, like it was their first time. But even more so he felt it in his heart. 

If felt, right then, sort of like Dean knew for sure that even if they had to do everything over again, Castiel would still pick him. And that made him feel really fucking great. 

“Hmm..." he hummed wickedly, brushing his hand over where Castiel's sat on his thigh, "I can think of a few things we could do to rattle those brains around.”

A devilish smile Dean had already seen too many times crossed Castiel's face. He hoped that when they woke up together in Dean's bed tomorrow morning, all of Cas' memories would be back and he'd kiss Dean like he hadn't seen him in a week. But for tonight... well, tonight they could have a little fun. 

“So, how did I hurt my head again?”

**Author's Note:**

> Extra credit if you caught the blink-and-you'll-miss-it Parks and Rec reference.


End file.
